Nodding heartily, Norman waved his hand in a dismissive fashion. "Sure, sure, no problem. I'll go along with whatever you say." Planting his fingers under his chin, he studied Maisy briefly as he took his seat. "Flip your marcasite pendant around, it's backwards. Okay, now hike your skirt up a notch and stick your chest out a bit." He put his finger to his lips as Maisy opened her mouth to protest. "Shhh, he's coming around the corner ... let's see that Colgate smile, Maisy." Norman rose to greet Keller Chaney as he entered his office. "Keller, nice to see you again," he said flashing his best salesman's smile.
"Norman, Maisy," Keller said returning the smile and nodding at each of them. "I was hoping to take you up on your offer to steal away your best travel counselor for an hour ... or maybe two." He winked and placed his hand on the back of Maisy's chair, looking down at her with those luscious brown eyes. He was dressed in a deep blue-gray suit, pale gray shirt, and his tie was printed with tiny wine bottles in shades of blue, gray, cream and maroon. It was a tie worthy of Norman's collection. "I'm sorry it's such short notice," Keller gave a nervous laugh, "but I just flew in from a two week business trip in California. Came right from the airport, actually. I, uh ..." he cleared his throat and looked from Maisy to Norman, and back to Maisy again. "I thought it might be nice to have lunch together. How about it, Maisy," he asked in a voice as smooth and soft as silk.
With a jubilant look, Norman shot to his feet. "Oh, she'd be ..." he stopped in mid-sentence, fiddled with his tie-tack and glanced at Maisy who flashed him a warning look. Norman cleared his throat. "Uh, Maisy, what's your schedule like this afternoon? Think you can swing it?"
Maisy flashed Norman a broad grin. She knew how hard it was for him to choke back an exuberant positive reply on her behalf. Taking a moment to drink in the ocean breeze-like fragrance that subtly wafted through Norman's office since Keller entered it, Maisy heaved a sigh, wishing that he wasn't Sharon's brother and that she could say yes. After one glance into those big, chocolate drop eyes of his, Maisy surprised herself by saying, "Yes ... yes, lunch today would be very nice, Keller."
"Great," Norman said, through his ear to ear grin. Briskly rubbing his hands together, he scooted past Keller to the door of his office, paused just outside, and popped his head back through the doorway. "Oh, and Maisy ... Carol will be here all afternoon, so you can take the rest of the afternoon off," he said, winking with a devilish grin before flying down the corridor and leaving Maisy with her mouth hanging open.
* * *
Chapter Five
Keller escorted Maisy to a gleaming black stretch-limousine. The uniformed driver stood at attention as he held the door open for the couple. Maisy was duly impressed. While Keller was busy talking to the driver, Maisy sank back into the soft, cushy maroon leather and took a deep breath. Watch it. Don't get carried away, Mazel Lynn--remember, this guy is Sharon's brother. A moment later Keller gracefully slid his magnificent body across the smooth leather seat, flashing Maisy a mesmerizing smile as his imposing presence filled her senses. Biting her lip, Maisy fought the sudden urge to collapse into a fit of schoolgirl giggles."Your boss really seems like a great guy," Keller said.
"He is." Except when he's busy sticking his nose in my business and trying to set me up with the henna-haired fornicator's brother. "Norman's a terrific boss and a great friend."
"Friend? So, you mean there's nothing else ... I mean, I'm not intruding on a more ... serious relationship between you two?"
Keller's question caught Maisy by surprise. "Me and Norman? Oh, good heavens no." Placing her hand at the base of her throat, she laughed. "Norman's ... uh, well, he's just a very close friend."
Keller flashed her a grin, "Good, I'm very glad to hear that. That's the impression I got, but I just wanted to clarify things."
Furrowing her brows, Maisy added, "Although, Norman does have a rather annoying penchant for meddling." Twisting her smile into a smirk, she shook her head.
"Well, I'm glad he intervened on my behalf." Keller offered a little laugh. "Otherwise, I have a sneaking suspicion that you and I wouldn't be together right now."
A blush filtered across Maisy's cheeks. "Well, you're probably right, because . . ."
Flashing a winning smile, Keller reached over and placed his hand over Maisy's, causing her to completely lose her train of thought. Her mind became Cream of Wheat. All she could focus on was the delicious, tingling current that began at Keller's touch, zigzagging an agreeable course as it sent a shiver jogging up and down her spine and ended with an explosion in her center.
"Looks like I owe Norman a debt of gratitude," Keller said, brushing his thumb across her fingers.
Alarmed by her apparent, sudden inability to register a logical thought, Maisy closed her eyes, sucked in a deep breath and slipped her hand from Keller's. Finally, regaining some semblance of normal brain matter, Maisy opened her eyes and noticed that the driver had turned onto the toll-way. Clearing her throat, she asked, "So, where are we going for lunch?"
"Well," Keller said, stretching his long legs out onto the spacious floor of the limo, "seeing as how you have the rest of this beautiful autumn day free, I thought it might be nice to partake in a little picnic lunch in the city."
Raising her eyebrows in surprise, Maisy said, "A picnic?" Keller nodded as a broad smile overtook his features. You mean where we freeze our asses off chowing down on hot dogs, potato salad, and coleslaw on some brittle patch of grass in Chicago--in February? "Gee, sounds lovely, Keller." Maisy slanted him a dubious look and smiled. Maybe Sharon Chaney wasn't the only family member with a few screws loose--and thanks to Norman, she didn't have an easy out if she needed it. She was stuck with Keller Chaney for the rest of the afternoon. Maisy gave Keller another furtive glance. He may be screwy, and he may be a Chaney--but, damn, she couldn't deny that he was one spectacular looking hunk of man.
Having been comfortably immersed in light small talk during the forty-five minute ride, Maisy found herself so captivated by their effortless, flowing conversation that she hadn't paid any attention to the passing scenery. When the driver stopped and opened the door, Maisy was surprised and enchanted to find they were at Buckingham Fountain in the city. She'd always loved this glorious Chicago landmark, congregating there often as a teenager with her friends after school and during summer breaks. Closing her eyes, Maisy luxuriated in a deep breath and turned to Keller.
"What a wonderful surprise. I haven't been to Buckingham Fountain in years," she said.
"Good." Keller smiled broadly. "I was hoping you'd feel that way. Chilly?"
To the bone. "Not a bit. The lake air is refreshing ... exhilarating ... don't you think?" She offered a clenched-teeth grin, struggling to keep from shivering as the bright February sun offered minimal warmth to the crisp Lake Michigan breeze.
Keller guided her to the fountain's broad rim where they each took a seat. Within a few minutes, the limo driver had erected a small folding table, complete with white linen tablecloth and a large wicker basket. Properly impressed, Maisy arched an eyebrow. Depositing a couple of thick blankets at Keller's side, the driver tipped his hat, offered a curt, professional smile, and was gone.
Eyeing Maisy's attempts at feigning comfort, Keller smiled and wrapped one of the thick, wool plaid blankets around her shoulders and one around his own. "Here, these should keep us nice and toasty. I use these at football games out at Soldier Field, and they block out the wind real well." Opening the wicker basket, he retrieved two crystal wine glasses, and a bottle of red wine. Expertly removing the cork, he said, "Here's something else guaranteed to warm your innards, Ms. Morganfield." He laughed and poured them each a glass of the smoky, blood-red wine. "I hope you like cabernet."
Cabernet . . . cabernet . . . what was that I read about cabernet . . . "I do, very much. It's the one red wine that's perfectly compatible with chocolate." Quite proud of herself for retrieving that cosmopolitan tidbit from her memory banks, Maisy smiled broadly.
"Hmmm, I'm impressed." Ke
ller nodded and smiled, studying her with interest. "Not too many people know that."
Maisy laughed. "Let's just say that, as a chocoholic, I've made it my mission to know everything I possibly can about chocolate." With a furtive glance, Maisy held the glass under her nose and breathed deeply, hoping she correctly remembered what she'd been taught at the wine tasting she went to with Norman. "M-m-m-m," she murmured as she took in the heady fragrance, doing her best to appear urbane and sophisticated. After clinking glasses, Maisy took a sip and closed her eyes, holding the wine in her mouth a few seconds before swallowing. "M-m-m-m," she murmured again, nicely avoiding a shudder as she swallowed the unfamiliar liquid.
Yuck! Ptooey! Gag! As the fine, smooth cabernet accosted her uneducated palette, Maisy's eyes flew open in shocked disgust. All she tasted was a non-sweet, grapey-mushroomy fluid that she was none too thrilled about. Why on earth would anyone would want to spoil the taste of chocolate by washing it down with this stuff? To Maisy's chagrin, the emerging shudder took hold. Hopefully, Keller would just think she was chilly.
"There's a pleasant oakiness," she said. "I taste currants . . . and detect a slight undertone of spice . . . and a deep, rich earthiness," she said, mimicking the comments she'd heard at the wine tasting. Gazing up at Keller, Maisy offered a gracious smile. "This wine is wonderful, Keller," she flat out lied.
He nodded approvingly. "It appears that you know how to recognize and appreciate a good wine, Maisy. That makes something we have in common." He clinked glasses with her again and took a sip.
He bought every word. This is a cinch. Puffed with her stellar performance, Maisy couldn't resist showing off more of her phony wine acumen. "I usually prefer dry wines with red meat and wet wines with white meat." Tossing the comment off with a blasé smile, Maisy was taken aback when Keller nearly choked on his wine. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah, sure. Just went down the wrong way, I guess. Drink a lot of wet wines, do you?" The corners of Keller's mouth twitched.
"Mmm-hmm. Like Riesling with salmon."
"I see." An expression of amusement across his features, Keller studied Maisy for a moment before reaching into the wicker basket. "Been a wine lover for some time, have you?"
Full of bravado, Maisy waved her hand through the air. "Oh, eons," she said, huffing a blasé chuckle.
"How about champagne? Like it?" Keller brought out a couple of small plates and linen napkins from the wicker basket, then unwrapped a perfectly ripened wedge of French brie, placing it on the table along with some water crackers and two tiny pearl handled knives.
"Of course," Maisy said matter of factly as she smiled and sipped from her glass of Cabernet. This time she made sure not to shudder as the putrid liquid went down.
"Yeah," Keller said, choking back a laugh, "nothing like a fine glass of champagne to compliment a great dinner." Reaching into the basket again, Keller withdrew a plate of assorted pâté slices and a plate of pear wedges and deep purple grapes. "What's your favorite brand?"
Maisy whipped her head towards Keller. "Of champagne, you mean?" Keller nodded. "Well, uh . . ." Never having ingested anything more costly than a three-dollar bottle of sparking wine, Maisy was at a loss. "Gee, isn't that funny," she said, taking another sip of wine, "I can't seem to remember." She smiled at Keller over the rim of her glass. "It's one of those expensive French ones."
"Somewhere in the six to eight dollar range?" Keller knew he shouldn't keep baiting his lovely picnic companion, but he was having too much fun to stop.
"Yes." Maisy cleared her throat and flashed a tentative smile. "They're so much tastier than the two to four dollar variety, don't you agree?"
"Oh, without a doubt," Keller said as he stuck his head into the wicker basket. Coming up from the basket, red faced from controlling his rising laughter, he deposited two tiny golden boxes of Godiva chocolates on the table, immediately capturing Maisy's attention.
Hot dogs, potato salad and coleslaw, indeed, Maisy laughed to herself. This guy really knew how to put on a picnic. He had succeeded in completely bowling her over. "Keller, this is all amazing. I thought you said you just came from the airport ... how in the world did you manage to pull all this together so fast?"
He laughed and shrugged. "Well, I kept thinking about you all during that long plane ride back from California, so I called you over at Persimmon Travel, but you were on another call. I spoke to Norman, and he told me you were free this afternoon and I could stop on by."
Cocking her head, Maisy stared at him in drop-jawed amazement. "You talked to Norman? This morning?" Keller nodded. "You mean, before your flight left from California?"
"No ... from the plane," he smiled and sipped some wine.
Maisy spun her body towards Keller. "From the plane? You called me while in flight?"
Keller laughed at Maisy's delightful expression of bewilderment. "Well, I told you that I was thinking about you. You kept popping into my thoughts all during my business trip, so, I was hoping I'd be able to see you when I got back." His eyes sparkling with amusement, Keller reached over and lifted Maisy's chin, which had been hanging open for a while. "After I talked to Norman and ironed everything out with him, I called Williams, my limo driver, and gave him instructions to gather certain items for our picnic lunch and ... voila." Keller gestured toward the linen covered folding table groaning with gourmet edibles.
Shaking her head, Maisy placed her wine glass on the table and folded her arms across her chest. "So, Norman told you I was free this afternoon and you could stop on by, huh?" She harrumphed. "So that's why he called Carol to switch her day off and come in today, instead. Why that meddling . . ." Maisy made an exasperated raspberry sound.
"Aw, don't be too hard on Norman." Keller laughed. "He's a good guy."
Rolling her eyes, Maisy harrumphed. "For a busybody." Hiding her emerging smile, she took a leisurely sip of cabernet. It actually tasted somewhat less offensive this time. She slanted Keller an inquisitive glance. "So, just what exactly did Norman say to you this morning."
Scratching his head, Keller shrugged his shoulders and smiled. "He kind of clued me in on the fact that you're not too crazy about me being Sharon's brother--but, believe it or not, I think I already got that message from you the other day at Chowder Bay." He laughed.
Maisy felt the color rise in her cheeks. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to be rude." She raked her fingers through her hair. "It's just that . . . well . . ." After another fortifying sip of wine, which was tasting better all the time, she cocked her head and looked up into Keller's eyes. "Keller, just how much do you know about that whole situation with me and John and your sister, anyway?"
Expelling a deep breath, and looking rather uncomfortable, Keller said, "The condensed version, as told and interpreted by Sharon Chaney Morganfield." He shrugged and offered an apologetic smile "Let's just say that it wasn't a very pretty tale and you were definitely not the heroine."
"Good grief." Maisy bristled. "I can only imagine what she must have told you about me."
"I think it's safe to say that Sharon's account is somewhat biased, to say the least." He laughed. "I can tell you one thing though--she certainly didn't describe you looking like this." Raising his eyebrows, an appreciative smile covered his face as he motioned from Maisy's head to her toes with his hand. "That's why I was so flabbergasted when you told me your name at the restaurant. I'd expected Maisy Morganfield to be . . ."
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Maisy waived her hand in a dismissive fashion. "We went through that already at the restaurant, remember? I'm sure your dear sister had no trouble finding a wealth of graphic nouns and adjectives when it came to describing her dead husband's ex-wife." Expelling a tuneful sigh, she smiled broadly and shook her head.
Clearly embarrassed, Keller stumbled for words. "Let's just say that she didn't speak of you in the most glowing of terms and leave it at that."
Waving her hand again, Maisy shrugged and said. "Don't worry about it, Keller. I'm well aware that
your sister thought I was a whale--and worse. I was awfully big back then. John's wake was the first time Sharon's seen me since I lost all that weight."
Keller looked Maisy up and down again. "How much weight--if you don't mind me asking."
Taking a deep breath, Maisy self-consciously hesitated for a moment, then turned to Keller and said, just above a whisper, "Over a hundred pounds."
"What? A hundred pounds?" Keller's voice boomed and his eyes shot wide open as he studied Maisy again.
Shrugging uncomfortable, Maisy said, "During those ten horrible years that John and I were married, I used food to drown my sorrows, just like an alcoholic uses liquor."
"But . . . but, Maisy, you're so incredibly beautiful. I just can't imagine you ever looking any other way. You're just . . . well, you're just not the fat type, Maisy." He gave an embarrassed chuckle. "Jeez, am I making things worse by putting my foot in my mouth? I hope you know what I'm trying to say."
Incredibly beautiful? Those were the only words of Keller's that Maisy could focus on as she whipped up her head in utter astonishment--she still wasn't used to her new, attractive, slender identity. Glancing down at herself, Maisy had to chuckle when she saw that she was sitting with the blanket pulled tight around her middle, intent on hiding those old phantom rolls of fat. A delightful, tingly rush of excitement danced through her system. "Thank you, Keller. What a lovely compliment. I've come a long way in the last couple of years." Maisy smiled and shrugged as she loosened the death-grip on her blanket and allowed it to slip from her shoulders. He was right, the wine had succeeded in warming her from the inside out--or was it being this close to Keller that caused the heat in her veins?
"My God, you must have." After giving her another appreciative once over, Keller cleared his throat and took another sip of wine. Sensing that it might be wise to change the subject, he held his wine glass up by the stem, twirling it slowly as he studied it. "Very nice body, and just look at those great legs."
Shipping Sharon Page 6